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by Lunar_L



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cutesy, Haunting, Other, Supernatural - Freeform, ghost - Freeform, ghost crush, ghost depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 15:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15464541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunar_L/pseuds/Lunar_L
Summary: This ghost wants nothing more than to scare everyone away. Well, almost everyone. But why?





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**Author's Note:**

> Flash fiction (10 minute write)

They never hurt anyone. That’s their only rule. Whatever other tactics they need to use they’ll use.

Illusions of blood work more often than not. Blood dripping from the walls, down their faces. The illusions have solid mass so they often feel it before they see it, glancing into the mirror in horror. Pain never accompanies the illusions but they scream anyway.

* * *

“You can’t keep doing this,” he says and they make the walls sing in a pleasant purring noise in response to his voice.

“They’re still selling. I’ll need to bring more people here. Will you at least wait until they close escrow this time?”

They don’t respond to that.

“I’ll get fired if I can’t get this house past the viewing stage and I have bills to pay.”

They make the air smell like cotton candy. An apology of sorts. And a promise.

* * *

They had let the family move in this time. All viewings had been uneventful and they even brought the little one. It doesn’t matter. They never hurt anyone anyway.

They wait for them all to fall asleep before they drop the temperature and short out the fuse box.

* * *

“You’re lucky that little boy was too young to understand why his parents were so scared,” he tells the perfectly lacquered mahogany staircase. They make the wood warm under his touch.

“At least I earned the commission,” he says defeated, “and they’ve asked us to sell it again."

The temperature drops just a little bit.

* * *

They continue this way. Always scaring away the intruders, never harming them. Four new families of all shapes and sizes have gone before they find their first real challenge.

She believes. But she is not afraid. She places out crystals and burns pleasant herbs for them.

But she is not him.

They find her fear eventually.

* * *

"I can’t keep doing this,” he says, “everyone thinks I’m cursed. That _I’m_ the reason weird things happen here. No one at work believes you’re real.”

They make a faint smell of burnt popcorn to show their displeasure. He laughs but it is weak and doesn’t last long.

“I can’t be the one to sell the house anymore.”

They make the doors and windows slam closed suddenly and the air holds a stale quality to it.

“If you keep me here against my will, I’ll starve,” he says matter of factly, “ And I know you never let anyone get hurt.”

After a time they let the front door swing inwards. The walls seep moisture as he turns and walks through it. The air smells of salt now.

* * *

A new realtor tries to take over. They terrify her and the couple she brings with her. More realtors try again after that. They bring new families with them but they always frighten them away.

They no longer give anyone a chance to think the house is normal any more. They make shrieking noises of stone on stone when they hear people approaching from the street, they make the downstairs smell of rotting meat and the upstairs holds the heat of fire and flames.

None of it matters any more.

* * *

 People stop coming to view. The house they once loved becomes less grand and starts to fail in places. They do their best but they can only affect the physical plane temporarily or force illusions upon the senses. None of it is enough to stop the disrepair from gaining ground.

The walls become blue instead of purple and remain that way.

* * *

They hear noises. It’s been a year since anyone came to see the house - since they scared away those teenagers who tried to see how long they could last.

They don’t even have the energy to make the shrieking loud enough to discourage them before they get close.

As the door opens they prepare to assault the intruder's senses with the taste of burnt flesh, but they stop.

_He_ is in the doorway. He looks distraught and they immediately make the room warm and cosy to try and cheer him up. His eyes light up a little but he still seems unsure.

“Hi,” he says.

They make the broken blinds on the windows by the door sway in a wave.

“Sorry I’ve been gone so long,” he says to the ceiling, “I needed some time to save up some money. I thought it would have been a lot longer but they’ve dropped the price a long way since I stopped coming by.”

They aren’t entirely sure what he means but the way he says it makes what they now have instead of a chest swell and the lights come on, a few old bulbs popping and startling him for a moment. He laughs.

“I told you I couldn’t be the one to sell the house anymore,” he says with a grin, “I’m not allowed to sell to myself.”

* * *

The night is cold and the heating has not been reconnected yet but they keep him warm, first with illusions and then by forcing enough physical presence into the room to envelope him as he sleeps on the mattress he brought with him. Illusions will only make him _think_ he’s warm after all and they don’t want him to catch a cold.

Tomorrow he will need to leave again to collect tools and some of his belongings. He will need to leave again day after day. But this time they know he will always come back.

He will always come back home to them.


End file.
